Junic Round-up June 30, 2008

I’ve been trying think of a coherent way to string all the things I want to blog about this last bit of June together, but I have so far been unable to, in fact coherence in general has been somewhat lacking today. I figure the best thing to do is to just splurge about a number of things and not worry about it making sense. Yes, that’s a plan.

Last week I travelled down to Sussex for a couple of days retreat. I loved the rolling green hills and the quietness, waking up to the baaing of sheep was a novel experience, and I enjoyed a wondrous conversation with a local taxi driver, who wondered if I, having come from London, had never seen a tractor before. (He then went on to direct me to beachy head… a fact which fleetingly concerned me.) 

We stayed in a big old house, I shared a room with three other girls. There was that initial awkward moment, where we didn’t know quite what to say to each other, but after a few minutes we were nattering away. By the end of the retreat had a number of hilarious moments to share. We renamed the place we were staying Jurassic Park, for reasons I shall not divulge. We laughed and cried together, and we took long morning walks and considered swimming in the lake. It was great to meet them and they helped make it an great experience for me.

I’m not very good at retreating, I learned! On the first day I could be found wandering around the gardens, with a notebook (as ever), asking God to speak about my church, my job, world peace etc… The heavens were resoundingly silent and I was somewhat frustrated with the good Lord. He did then point out that it wasn’t the best plan for me to try and agenda our every conversation, and that it would do me good just to be still for a bit, without ‘achieving’ anything in terms of hearing from him. So it felt like I spent a lot of time over the 48 hours lying on my back in the grass, just chilling and being with him. With hindsight I know that was powerful in itself (although I did inadvertently bring a lot of said grass home as a result).

The programme was good, intense but helpful. I’ve spent the time since coming back feeling a bit disorientated but with a real sense that good was done there, good that God will build on in the weeks and months ahead. So that’s exciting.

I came straight back into what looked like a manic weekend, so it was good discipline not to get all caught up in the busyness and lose the sense of peace I had from being away. I emptied the diary a bit and dispelled some of the madness, so actually managed to have a quiet couple of days.

On Sunday I led the meeting and preached etc… It was an amusing occasion for so many reasons. I bribed the congregation with gingerbread men to take part… no, they were all very responsive and mostly well behaved, with only one notable exception!

Today has been quite busy, but I have been having a reflective evening, being the end of June and all that (I can hardly believe it’s July, well nearly July, already!). These last thirty days have taught me some important things:

• When God starts something he will finish it, however tempting it is to wish he would/try to convince him to abandon the mission half way through.
• God’s timing is perfect, no really it is.
• However intriguing parts of this journey are, God is residing over all of them.
• Just when you think you have God worked out, he does something that you don’t expect (and likely wouldn’t have asked for!!), but it works out ok in the end!
• I have some amazing and faithful friends, and I am so grateful for their love and the privilege of journeying with them.
• Being 25 is great. York is a beautiful city. Surprises are lovely things. I love trains more than I thought.
• There are many more exciting times ahead, so there is plenty of reason to celebrate.
• Learning to ride a bike will take more than one attempt.
• Sleeping with rags in my hair to make ringlets is painful (though the resulting ringlets are beautiful).

Prince Caspian June 23, 2008

Last Thursday, my lovely work colleagues took me to the 02 arena in London to see the premiere of this, the 2nd Narnia film. I had never been to a premiere, and didn’t really know what to expect. I loved the first Narnia film, and I loved the book of PC, so I had high hopes for this.

I wasn’t disappointed. It really was a marvellous evening. The arena was huge, the screen was gargantuan and the film itself was amazing.

I’m probably not allowed to tell you about the plot or anything like that, but I was really impacted by one scene in the film especially. It was really near the end, when the Narnians et al are engaged in one of those battles that is about rightness and valour but is not going to end in victory for the good without supernatural intervention.

The Telmarine forces drive them back to a bridge over a river, certain that they can beat them there. And then the sounds of battle fade and we see Lucy, the youngest of the Pevensey children standing on the bridge alone. She is young, I think 10 or 11. All the collected, well armoured, loud forces of the Telmarine stand on the other side of the bridge, waiting for the signal to march over it, confused as to why a small, unarmed, unarmoured girl is standing in their way. Everything is still for a moment, it looks like certain death for Lucy. She pulls a tiny toy sword out of her belt, and they all laugh at her.

But Lucy isn’t relying on her tiny sword to win the battle, because then we see that she is really not alone. Suddenly Aslan is revealed, standing closely beside her. Suddenly the tables have turned and she is no longer a vulnerable little girl facing the violence of her amassed foes. Aslan roars, and everything changes in an instant.

I guess this bit of the film touches me because I have always empathised with Lucy, she is the youngest, she looks weak and insignificant, and yet she has a key role to play in things. She is mocked by her enemies and overlooked by her family and yet she has a special relationship with Aslan, the representation of God. I want to have a relationship with God like that. I want to keep remembering that I don’t have to fight the battles that surround me with my little wooden sword, but in the power of the Almighty God that stands beside me. That is a very comforting thought.

Who am i? June 23, 2008

I’ve probably said before that if you forced me to only talk about one topic, if I could only preach on one thing, if I could only write about one area, it would be the area of identity, and the importance of knowing who we are in Christ. I’m careful not to make it a soapbox, but it is something I’m passionate about, and I love watching people grasp the truth in this area.

Anyway, so i’ve been rooting around on the internet today looking for pictures and words for some stuff I’m doing on this topic next weekend. I came across this piece of writing, which is a variety on the usual list of bible verses on this topic.  It really inspired me to write, to plan the things I needed to, and to let the truth sink in a little deeper. Here it is anyway:

Because…..I made her…she’s different. She’s unique.
With love I formed her in her mother’s womb. I fashioned her with great joy. I remember with great pleasure the days I created her. (Psalm 139:17 )
To me she’s beautiful…I love her. I love her smile. I love her ways. I love to hear her laugh and the silly things she says and does. (Psalm 139:17 )
She is herself and no one else…this is how I made her. I made her pretty, but not beautiful because I know her heart, and she would be vain…I want her to search out her heart, and learn that it would be Me in her that would make her beautiful…and it would be Me in her that would draw friends to her. (1 Peter 3:3-5 )
I made her in such a way that she would need me. I made her a little more lonesome than she would like to be…only because I want her to lean and depend on Me. I know her heart. I know if I had not made her like this, she would go about her own chosen way, and forget Me…her creator. (Psalm 62:5-8 )
I have given her many good and happy things…because I love her. (Psalm 84:11, Romans 8:32 )
I have seen her broken heart, and the tears she has cried all alone. I have been with her and have had a broken heart too (Psalm 56:8 )
Many times she has stumbled and fallen all alone only because she would not take My hand. So many lessons she has learned the hard way, because she would not listen to My voice. (Isaiah 53:6 )
So many times I have sat back and sadly watched her go her merry own way alone, only to watch her return to My arms, sad and broken. (Psalm 34:18 )
And now she is mine again. I made her and then I bought her. I paid a high price for her, because I love her (Romans 5:8 )
I have had to reshape and remould her…to renew her to what I had planned for her to be. It has not been easy for her…or for me. (Jeremiah 29:11)
I want her to be conformed to My image. This high goal I have set for her because I LOVE HER! (2 Corinthians 2:14)
-Author Unknown

The Dance June 22, 2008

Dressed in a simply shift dress, she stepped onto the stage. Behind her, the man dressed in white, representing God. Her expression was pure wonder and innocence, she looked to him as he stepped forward, pointing to some aspect of his creation. He stood close behind her, helping her lift her hands, twirling her round, looking at her with pure love and pure tenderness. He knelt down to a flowing stream, scooping up fresh water for her. She drank deeply, knowing real refreshment. A look of wonder and discovery radiated from her as she moved across the stage, radiant in his presence.

The music spoke of the search, of the beauty found in him, of the purity and vulnerability in their communucation. It was tranquil and soothing.

Then onto the stage crept a figure in a dark suit. His dance was dizzying, fast. She was nearly swept off her feet. He put a rose between her teeth and spun her repeatedly. The music sounded exciting, but gone was the natural fluidity of her movements. She became stilted somehow, Led by this new figure and his strange intoxicating dance.

God reached out to her. She tried to keep his attention but the pace was too quick. He looked pained and she looked confused and yet they just had to keep spinning. The next figure carried a bottle, transfixed by the light refracted in its contents, she drank deeply. Her movements becoming erratic and wobbly.

Still spinning they fought for her. Joined by a figure of beauty, handing her a mirror and urging her to compare herself, we watched as seeds of doubt and self-contempt were sown. Soon she didn’t dance at all, caught in a spiral of destruction and pain.

The last figure was dressed in a black hooded cloak. He glided around her, attempting to cover her and shut out the light entirely. His movements were choreographed carefully – he seemed alluring, yet we knew he sought to trap her, to remove all traces of the dance and end its melody. She fought him, but fell to the floor, overwhelmed by the despair and temptation, the numbing ache of emptiness, exhaustion from their endless, ensnaring rhythms. 

Still God waited at the side. Calling out to her, reaching out, a pure white light darting between the writhing black figures. They tried to push him back, violent they surrounded her. Still she didn’t move, still he fought to get closer. With the last of her strength, she got to her feet, seeing a flash of his purity through the black fog. She reached out for him, and he stepped closer yet. Holding out his hand for her, reaching into her bleak reality.

They weren’t prepared to give up without a fight though, the figures shrouded in darkness. They grabbed her and pulled her back, out of his reach. For a few tortured moments she was pulled between the two. Eventually God pushed in front of them, held them back as she fell to her knees again, placed himself between her and their frantic frenzied grasping. She lifted up her hands to him, in a statement of pure need, of desperation to feel his touch and his wholeness once more.

In a flash the black figures fell, motionless. The music slowed to its earlier peacefulness. He helped her to her feet and held her in a long embrace. The scene spoke of redemption and reconciliation. A daughter in her Father’s arms.

The dance finished as it had begun, with soft notes and gentle movement, with her rediscovering the wonder of him. Her focus was wholly on him, they were entirely connected. It was a lovely sight. In those moments, she and we forgot the dark stages of her journey, transfixed by the glory in their dancing. In those moments all of our hearts swelled as we considered the Divine Dancer who swept onto the stages of our lives, showing us wonder and then waiting patiently as we spurned him for steps that tripped and enslaved us, before rescuing us from the dark places and dark moments and continuing the dance.

Birthday Snaps June 20, 2008

Just a selection of some of my favourite York-ic snaps!!

Birthday Poem June 18, 2008

Last week was my birthday, a fact which I advertised widely. On the day itself, I spent the evening at a poetry evening, organised by a guy in my church and involving an eclectic bunch of writers from across the borough.

Previously we have just read our work, but last week afforded us the opportunity to attempt writing something. We all wrote three lines each, and then passed it to the next person. At the end the poem was read aloud with aplomb, and we were all amazed at how cohesive it was, bearing in mind the only thing we knew was that our lines had to be about birthdays.

 

Birthday Poem 12/06/08

Gonna bust the blues
On birthday time
flies when you’re having fun
So we say come
Rejoice
The old day’s done
And God has sent His only Son.

The ultimate present
Unexpected and undeserved
Given with love to a hostile world.

For this is the hour for a rhythm that’s new
Goodbye to the repetitive drum beats of despair
Grace that’s encased in a melody of hope
And countless responding in true celebration.

A mighty occasion none would forget
Stories told through generations
Keeping the excitement, the enjoyment alive.

And now the birthday is over
But I will carry the memories forever
The joy of this day will carry me through
The times of grief and turmoil
All the year long I will remember
Until the time comes again
To celebrate the life you have given.

Best Birthday June 16, 2008

 

Last Thursday I turned 25. Surely not a noteable birthday you’d think, as one of my presents stated, it lacks the youthful exuberance of 21, or the gravitas of 60… but for me it was a big celebration, and I was determined to push celebration to the extreme.

The celebrations started the weekend before last, with the balloon creatures and cake I already mentioned.

We continued on Tuesday, with a lovely birthday meal with my friends from church here in Wandsworth. They made me a huge summer snow scene cake, with strawberries and cream in the middle and a snowman on top. It was fantastic.

Thursday was my actual birthday, and it was a lovely day. It started with a birthday coffee, continued with a birthday lunch with some of my colleagues, then I went back to Wandsworth and got some lovely presents from my friends here (including the most lovely ever purse!). That evening I went along to our monthly poetry evening where we had birthday poems and cream cakes.

The celebrations continued with fervency on Friday, as the ‘Unparis’ weekend began. To explain, we had orginally mused about going to Paris for the weekend, but for a number of reasons we decided to abandon that, so my two good friends organised a weekend of celebration on English soil. I knew where and when to turn up and what to bring, but not our itinery or destinations. The surprises were lovely and fitting.

We began on Friday night in Wagamama’s. I was handed a parcel and an envelope marked, ‘or alternatively’. When I opened the parcel it was the book Lord of The Rings. I knew then that we were going to the theatre to see it. And it truly was an awesome production. What made my night was that three of my other Canterbury friends were there too… that was a lovely bit of the surprise. I’d been intrigued by the present one of my friend’s was carrying, as it was huge!! It turned out to be a framed newspaper front page with an article about me in it… cool!!

On Saturday morning I was instructed to arrive at Kings Cross at 10.10am. So I did! I was then handed an envelope, which contained three tickets to York. I was very excited about that, as York is somewhere I’ve always wanted to go. We jumped on the train, and my lovely friends had brought pastries to fit in with the Parisian theme. They also brought me a coffee table book on Parisian markets, which I duly entertained the train with excerpts from. I had to don a huge birthday badge which flashed… very subtle! (not!)

A bit further on in the journey I was handed another present. This was a printed sheet with the information about our hotel on. And a guide book all about York. It was cool to read all about where we were going and do a bit of plotting and planning.

When we arrived in York we found the hotel in the only rain shower of the weekend. It was a lovely hotel, with a huge triple bedroom. Very plush. We then walked into York, had some lunch, went on a Viking experience thing (complete with time travel, the opportunity to don a viking helmet, and coin pressing!). After a coffee we wandered round some more, buying some lovely fudge and taking in the Minster, which was beautiful. After this we walked along the river front, then went and had a carvary with a traditional yorkshire pudding.

On Sunday we got another train, this time I really did have no idea where we were going! About half way I realised we were going to Leeds! While there we met up with some good friends who live in a place called East End Park, and spent the afternoon with them, which was lovely.

It feels a bit weird that all the celebrating is over, but I am really aware that a birthday is just a summary of all that is to come in the coming year, and therefore there is a lot to look forward to and be thankful for. I’m so grateful for my friends who organised such a perfect weekend, who knew exactly what I would like, and also to everyone who helped make this birthday my favourite of the last 25!!

True Celebration June 7, 2008

So, Jacob cons his dad into giving him his brother’s birthright/blessing. Jacob runs away in fear of his life, and ends up stopping randomly in ‘a certain place’ (Genesis 28:11). That night he has a dream involving a staircase, lots of angels and an affirming speech from God about his purpose and destiny. To mark the place, he sets up the stone he used as his pillow as a pillar, to mark God’s promise and presence. He calls the place Bethel, which means House of God.

The thing that struck me about this story today is that Jacob is celebrating God’s faithfulness even without seeing it having come to completion. At this point in the story he is still on the run, without family or a place to call his own. I’m not sure I’d be celebrating with the same fervency.

This made me think about the way we celebrate, the way I celebrate. Sometimes, it is because we have a tangible cause or thing to celebrate - a baby being born, a driving test passed, a new job etc. Sometimes though, it’s more like Jacob’s pile of rocks: we are celebrating something we can’t see in completion yet.

Whereas celebrating tangible things is great, I think celebrating the ‘not-yets’ in our lives somehow sharpens our faith. If, in the moments of aridity and uncertainty, we can somehow find something to celebrate (however small and seemingly insignificant), I believe those things are like stone pillars, set up at significant points in our lives to mark something of God’s provision or revelation.

I’d like to tell you about a stone pillar in my life at the moment, and the way that this reminds me to celebrate even when it seems premature, or simply ludicrous to be doing so. 

Today some of my friends made me a birthday cake and 5 balloon animals (You know the sort you twist modelling balloons to make). It may have looked like a small gesture, but I was really touched. I’m sure Jacob’s stone pillar wasn’t much to look at, but to him it was really significant. For me these balloon animals are the same. I’ve set them up around my room now, and as I look at them, like the pillar, they remind me of celebration and love, they remind me of the promises of God to help me through the hard times and to use all things for good. They remind me that just as God promised his presence to Jacob, I have the same privilege here and now and today, and they remind me that I have some really good friends who choose to celebrate with me too. Such a blessing.  

I’m much better when I have somthing measurable to celebrate, it feels wooly in those moments when I’m praying, “thankyou God for lighting this night up and showing me the paths to walk on,” while it’s still dark and foggy outside.

Returning to the story, a few chapters later, in Genesis 35, Jacob takes his whole family back to Bethel, to the stone he had set up all those years previously, and he builds a proper altar there. We are told that God appeared to him again, promised to give him an inheritance, and reminded him of his new name. At this point Jacob has the benefit of hindsight, he can go back and say, “You did what you said you would God.”

Most times we find ourselves in the 6 chapters in between Jacob’s initial experience and his obdience in returning to Bethel. But we can still remember the memory of the pillars and what they mean to us. There are thousands of symbols we can adopt to do this -  a cross & chain round the neck, a ring with certain meaning, a painting on our wall that reminds us what God tasked us to do.

I haven’t got this celebration thing all sussed, but I have been feeling that increased sense of purity and connection when I’m celebrating even from a place of difficulty or pain. I want to know in more depth what it means to have a celebrating God, how he interacts with us in celebration, and how we ensure our celebrating focuses around transforming actions, rather than our own thoughts or agendas.

Until then I’ll just stick with my balloon creature prayer-buddies.